


Strange Brothers Dance Co.

by counterheist



Series: Yuuri Week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Legend of Zelda Oracle of Seasons, Day 1, Gen, M/M, Theme: Seasons, Thirsty Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 06:10:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: Some jerk in green keeps rearranging the seasons in the troubled land of Holodrum. The Oracle Farore sends the very best member of the Order of Secrets to help set things right.





	Strange Brothers Dance Co.

“Oh no,” the Oracle Farore sighs. “This won’t do.”

“What won’t do?” Yuuri asks. He’s standing on a ladder on Reference Floor 2, attempting to keep his balance while holding a pile of scrolls in his robed arms. Above him, the soft green tendrils of Farore’s Wind drift like dust motes between the shelves. The magic wind allows the Oracle’s voice to be heard anywhere in the Hall of Secrets no matter where she is. This is convenient for Farore, who enjoys posing philosophical questions at all hours; less so for the other members of the Order of Secrets, particularly those who spend too much time on ladders or who startle easily. It took Yuuri years to get used to Farore’s voice sneaking up on him when he was reshelving or bathing or sleeping.

“Come up here,” Farore’s voice swirls. “And bring the maps with you.”

There are thousands of maps in the Hall of Secrets. Reference Floor 4 is entirely devoted to them. Reference Floor 3 has a display of particularly nice ones arranged in a shining golden cabinet next to the stairs. Yuuri’s favorite from the Reference Floor 3 collection is a tiny map of Koholint Island hand-painted on the inside of a clam shell. The colors are all dreamy pinks and oranges and blues, which make the island look like a nice warm place to visit. But there are so many maps in the Hall Yuuri knows he hasn't seen all of them. Farore’s Wind dissipates without providing any further detail on what Farore wants him to bring to her.

This is all too common.

Yuuri climbs back down the ladder, sets his scrolls aside, and grabs a grey, cloth-bound atlas on his way over to the stairs. The atlas shouldn't even be on Reference Floor 2, but the Oracle is terrible about putting the things she reads back where they belong. _Labrynna and Holodrum_ the cover reads in a blocky variant of Hylian Yuuri had never seen before joining the Order. The atlas smells salty, like the sea. It feels right. In any case, it's the nearest set of maps at hand. It will have to be good enough for the Oracle Of Being Too Secretive To Ask For Something Directly.

A trio of new initiates perk up and stop alphabetizing when Yuuri passes them, but he waves them back to the tall shelves. It falls to everyone who isn't the Oracle to clean up after the Oracle, and cleaning up after the Oracle takes a considerable amount of time even with everyone (but Farore herself) helping. Perhaps Yuuri did not expect his primary duties would involve housekeeping when he joined the Order of Secrets, but if that’s the price of being able to get up at night and walk to the kitchen without tripping over a tome and spraining something, well.

He trudges up the steps to the reception room and appreciates being able to trudge without stepping on any priceless artifacts.

Farore claims putting books away teaches content to new initiates who are too curious not to read as they reshelve, and encourages older members of the Order to delve deeper into the _secrets_ held on the Reference floors, but Yuuri is fairly certain she is just abusing her power as the Oracle of the Order. Phichit agrees with Yuuri, and Phichit is almost always right about people’s motivations. That is his blessing. Yuuri’s blessing is being able to remember Farore’s cataloguing system.

Farore swears there is something else in him, but Yuuri has yet to find it.

“Here, Oracle Farore,” Yuuri says once he reaches the reception room. Farore has a large desk in the corner from which she reads and startles everyone and occasionally gives counsel. “The maps you asked for.”

Farore claps her hands together and waves Yuuri over excitedly. “Yes, yes,” she says, bouncing from her toes to her heels. “Those are exactly what I wanted to show you! Come here, come on. I need to see them to see why I needed to see them.”

Yuuri sets the book onto the emptiest portion of the desk and anxiously pulls his hood down further over his face.

“Look at this,” Farore says. She opens up the atlas to its very center and taps the page. Underneath her finger a meadow flashes and fades. A lake near it dries and swells as the snowpack on the mountains above sinks and grows. Yuuri frowns. He didn’t think he had brought one of the moving maps. And the changes don’t make any sense - some of the maps in the Hall of Secrets show the progression of time, yes, but they do it in _order_. Yuuri doesn’t recognize the changes he sees on the pages before him.

“I don’t understand,” he says.

“Something’s wrong,” Farore intones, eyes green and suddenly very far away. After her sisters created the land and laws of nature, the golden goddess Farore created all life. The Order of Secrets exists to understand, and cherish, and protect the life she gave. Farore the Oracle is lax and absentminded, but when she sees past the living realm and into the mysteries beyond it Yuuri can glimpse the goddess she has been blessed to channel.

When Farore comes back to herself she looks tired. She sits heavily onto her carved wooden chair. Yuuri waits for her to speak. Her eyes always have a glint to them that makes it seem like she knows something Yuuri doesn’t. At this moment, the glint looks like she knows something Yuuri isn’t going to like.

“My sisters,” Farore breathes.

* * *

In the beginning, the three golden goddesses created the world. Every child knows this, from the bottom of the sea to the tip top of Snowpeak Mountain. A little after the beginning, however, the three golden goddesses realized the world, left to its own, would fade into destruction. Some children know this too, from the edge of the desert to the shadows beneath cobblestone streets.

In her wisdom, Nayru suggested sending their voices to the world.

In her courage, Farore promised to guide.

With her power, Din made it so.

No children know when the Orders of the Ages and Seasons and Secrets began.

None but three sisters, once every generation.

* * *

The Order of Secrets is based in the Hall of Secrets, and the Hall of Secrets is found inside a magical tree. Two magical trees, at least, and none at all at the same time. Holodrum and Labrynna are neighboring countries. Each has a magical Maku tree. Each magical Maku tree has a door. Each door opens onto the Hall.

It makes more sense when Yuuri remembers magic.

Magic trees.

Magic goddesses.

Magic doors.

Yuuri is most comfortable in the lower levels of the Hall of Secrets, surrounded by books and tidy piles of swords and treasure. He feels most in tune with the Order there, and with himself. Subrosians aren’t meant to live on the Surface.

“I need you to go out into the world, Yuuri,” Farore says.

“Me?”

“Oh yes,” she nods. The air she gets when she channels her namesake has all but completely dissipated, and in its wake is a girl who knows the future and is too excited for it to be scared of it. “It has to be you.”

Yuuri knows better than to ask why. The first thing the new initiates to the Order learn is to never give the Oracle an excuse to say something’s a _secret_.

“Yes, Oracle,” he says instead, achingly polite.

Phichit never has this problem with Din. All Din, the Oracle of Seasons, does is dance and sometimes punch through walls. Phichit is learning how to punch through walls and dance one season to the next. Yuuri is learning how poor his eyesight can _really_ get.

When he steps outside into the full light of day for the first time in months, Yuuri squints and bundles himself up even deeper into his dark green robes, and realizes he was wrong. He had no idea how bad his vision has gotten, because he was born in an underground land of lava and darkness and now lives in a library. The sunlight _burns_.

“You okay there?” Holodrum’s Maku tree asks him.

“Never,” Yuuri replies, scuttling into the shadows clinging to the nearby trees. He needs to find Phichit. According to Farore, Din has gone missing. Yuuri needs to find Phichit so he can find Din and make the seasons stop changing out of order. Once the seasons stop changing, Yuuri can go back to organizing his books and scrolls inside and away from the relentless sun. He silently apologizes to Farore – the goddess, not his boss – for ever complaining about his blessing. Organizing is very important and someone has to be good at it and that someone is Yuuri.

Gale seeds.

The fastest way to find Phichit will be to warp to Din’s caravan, and to warp to Din’s caravan Yuuri needs Gale seeds. Yuuri remembers reading about a patch of Gale trees to the north so to the north he goes, avoiding the village and its humans, one tree at a time. When the trees thin he chances walking across the open sunny meadows. He pulls his robes up over his eyes and tries to pretend he’s at home, strolling along the edge of the lava sea, which is also warm and bright, but in a comforting way. After the second stretch of meadow Yuuri cautiously begins to walk with normal strides, eyes to the ground in front of him. The sunlight isn’t so bad once he imagines it as a variant of reflected lavaglow. Really, it’s not that dissimilar.

“Yuuri?”

Because of Yuuri’s extensive experience with the Oracle of Secrets and her disembodied voice, he does not jump.

“Yuuri, what are you doing outside?!”

Viktor, apprentice to the famous Yakov Feltsman, alights gracefully on a bed of violets directly in front of Yuuri. He pulls his pointed hat off his handsome head and sets it carefully over Yuuri’s hood. The extra shade from the wide, dark brim helps Yuuri see a bit better, even if the way the fabric smells like Viktor’s hair makes Yuuri feel very dizzy.

Yakov is an Arbiter, a trusted witch of the Labrynnan royal family. Sometimes, as befitting a witch of his station, he deals in _secrets_. Sometimes, as befitting a witch of his station, he sends his apprentice Viktor to the Hall to deal in _secrets_ for him. Farore likes to make Yuuri carry up enchanted rings and baubles and books to trade when Viktor brings his master’s secrets by. It’s both awful and kind of her.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks again. He places a cool hand on the rounded edge of Yuuri’s hood, directly over Yuuri’s right cheek. His fingers rub the fabric back and forth. It is very calming, but not what Yuuri needs right now.

“Farore sent me,” Yuuri blurts. “I have to find Phichit.”

“Oh!” Viktor exclaims. “I saw Phichit just a little while ago before I left the Sunken City. He was there asking Yakov for a sleeping serum. Or an anti-sleeping serum? One of those! I don’t remember. Would you like me to take you to him?”

Yuuri looks down at Viktor’s broom. The handle is quite thick, and the sweeping bit is quite bushy, but Yuuri is a creature of the ground.

Viktor withdraws his hand, taking his hat with it.

Yuuri gulps.

* * *

“So why do need to find Phichit?” Viktor asks once they are in the air. Yuuri has his arms wrapped as tightly as he can manage around Viktor’s waist, his face pushed up against Viktor’s back. The only reason Yuuri’s robes aren’t flipping up is there isn’t any space for them to do so.

He can’t even enjoy it.

“I need to find Din,” Yuuri replies, slightly queasy.

“Din!” Viktor laughs. “She’s a lot of fun, isn’t she! Did I ever tell you I almost joined the Order of Seasons?”

Yuuri shakes his head and regrets it.

“It’s true. When I was a little boy I loved to dance.”

“I did too,” Yuuri says. “Do.”

He chances opening a single eye and sees the ground beneath their feet whip by, red and green and brown and white. Snow follows sand follows the pink buds of springtime. Farore was right: something has happened to Din. The seasons are all out of order across the land of Holodrum without their Oracle to calm them and beat them into line.

“Then why did you join the Order of Secrets instead?” Viktor asks.

But they are quickly approaching the Sunken City, and Yuuri doesn’t have an answer in time. Viktor sets them down gently next to the Gale tree Yuuri could have warped to. In the distance, Yuuri can see Phichit’s familiar red robe standing in the low waters of the flooded city. He’s patting a similarly red… dodongo?

“Phichit!” Yuuri shouts. He steps tentatively out into the water.

Yuuri has walked in Surface water before, when he had to make a delivery for Farore and purposefully left the Hall on a day with cloudy skies to do it. He thought those would be the best skies to walk under, much better than the terrible sun. He hadn’t known about rain, then, at least not firsthand. Surface water is fine, except that it’s cold and Yuuri doesn’t know how to move in it when it’s all piled up. But needs must. He picks up the edges of his robe and steps out further into the water.

Behind him, Viktor exhales. “I could carry you over, Yuuri,” he says.

Yuuri shakes his head. He’s not ready to fly again. If Subrosians aren’t built for the Surface then they’re definitely not built for the air. Besides, Phichit and his dodongo friend have noticed Yuuri and Viktor now. Yuuri will be fine. There is cold, cold water over the tops of Yuuri’s ankles, but he can handle it. He dealt with it when Treasure Floor 6 sprang that leak from the cursed gemstone. A city covered in water that hits thigh high at most is nothing. Yuuri has read all about swimming.

“Yuuri!” Phichit calls. “Stay there! We’ll come to you! It gets—”

Deeper. _It gets deeper_ , is what Phichit must say. Yuuri doesn’t hear him because he’s too busy stepping onto nothing as the ground below him drops suddenly away. His body continues to move forward.

Everything is much quieter under water.

Sighing a stream of bubbles, Yuuri slips a ring onto his left hand. His feet hit the muddy ground and he looks up to see a large red blob stop almost directly above him. Another blob, black and silver, splashes over. Yuuri hears muffled shouting. He sees Viktor’s broom float by. He wonders idly if Farore is underestimated like this too. If Yuuri has been one of the people underestimating her all this time. Has he been underestimating her all this time? Yuuri has always been very impressed by how much she can see, and know, even when she shouldn’t. He begins to trudge his way back up to the shallows, the long slippery eelgrass twisting around his feet.

The sharp drop, the separation point between the shallow and deep waters, poses a bit of trouble for him when he has to lift himself up over it, but quick use of a power bracelet solves that problem. When his head breaks past the surface he barely has time to regain his breath before he’s being hauled up onto the back of a dodongo.

“Are you all right?” Phichit is saying. Viktor is saying something similar, but faster, with even more lilting syllables. The language he’s speaking is unfamiliar to Yuuri and sounds arcane. Maybe it’s something all witches have to learn. Yuuri will look it up when he gets back home to the Hall of Secrets.

“I’m fine,” he says, coughing up a bit of water he’d breathed in before putting on his Zora ring. “You can-,” he tries to wring out his robes. Four strong arms stop him from being very successful. “You can both let go of me.

Viktor reluctantly unwraps his arms from around Yuuri’s middle. Phichit does not. “How are you fine,” he demands. “You were under for so long! Dmitri was going to search for you because he can swim, and I can’t, but Viktor can, but your robes are so dark he had a hard time seeing you when he tried to find you, and… is that a ring?”

Yuuri understands his best friend is in shock. He doesn’t understand why a _ring_ , of all things, is what snaps him out of it.

“A ring?” Viktor asks. A hundred tiny expressions fly across his face at a breakneck pace. He slows down around _hurt_ , until _realization_ replaces it. “Oh! One of the enchanted rings the Oracle trades for secrets, is that it? Wow!” He pulls Yuuri’s hand closer to examine it. “Lips? A kiss? Did a lover give you this?”

According to the note he found with it, this Zora ring was kept in a mildewy box for longer than Yuuri’s been alive until the day Yuuri tripped over it while carrying a stack of books taller than he is. Yuuri has never had a _lover_. Yuuri is the only Subrosian in the entire Order of Secrets. Yuuri is one of very few Subrosians who ever leave Subrosia. Yuuri lives in a magic tree – sort of – on the Surface. Yuuri isn’t only attracted to Subrosians, exactly, but he doubts many Surface dwellers _are_ attracted to Subrosians, so. Yuuri has never had a lover.

And now Yuuri is thinking about Viktor and lovers and he needs to stop.

“Phichit,” he desperately changes the subject, pulling his hand back to safety beneath his robes. “Where is Din?”

* * *

Din has been taken away by an evil general and locked in a giant crystal inside a mountain fortress. These things have been known to happen before, but usually to princesses in places like Hyrule. Never to an Oracle of one of the golden goddesses. Din’s namesake is the goddess of _power_ – Yuuri can’t see this working out well for the general if divine intervention comes into play.

“It all happened after this Hylian in green crashed our midsummer party,” Phichit tells Yuuri after they’ve retreated back to the shore. “He said the Triforce brought him there, but who knows. He could dance well enough,” which is enough for many Subrosians to forgive most things, “and he _did_ have a Triforce mark on his lower back.”

 _Lower back_?, Yuuri mouths.

Phichit lifts his eyebrows and grins.

Viktor and Dmitri the dodongo catch none of this, because Yuuri and Phichit have their hoods up and Surface dwellers are notoriously poor at seeing past them. So maybe Subrosians sew and spell them like that on purpose, but. There are cues. It’s not difficult to see what a Subrosian is feeling if you’re really looking.

(For example, if Viktor had been _really_ _looking_ at Yuuri over the past several years, he would have seen… too much. He would have seen too much.)

“What happened to him?” Yuuri asks. “To the Hylian?” His robes are soaked and ten times heavier because of it. He’s cold, and nervous, and he wishes he could wear a power bracelet like a belt just to take some of the weight off.

“He ran off before the Order could really regroup,” Phichit says. “He’s got Din’s Rod of Seasons, but he won’t take anybody’s help. The _entire_ Order is working to get Din back and restore the seasons to Holodrum and this guy’s running around sightseeing and shouting about saving the whole universe.”

Viktor’s been sitting on his broom, hovering slightly over the ground. “Sightseeing?” he asks. The way he’s arranged himself makes his already-long human legs seem seven leagues longer. Yuuri only stares when he’s reasonably sure Viktor can’t tell.

Dmitri the dodongo rumbles something Yuuri can’t understand, but Viktor apparently can. “He’s been off to the temples? Essences? That seems like a waste of time to be collecting magical items on his own.” He huffs.

Phichit places his hands on his hips. “Exactly!” he exclaims. His bright red robes shift just enough that Yuuri can see the long sleeve coverings and layers of under-robes Phichit has on underneath. Phichit has always pushed boundaries in everything he’s done. His fashion style was one of the things that first impressed Yuuri about him back when they met taking lessons from Master Okukawa at the Subrosian Dance Hall. “That’s why I came here to ask Witch Feltsman for help,” Phichit continues. “I bet if we used one of his concoctions on the general we could free Din. And once Din’s freed she’ll be able to take care of this general no problem! The only reason he was able to take her away without getting punched was because he hid and surprised her.”

Yuuri wants to agree, but a green gust of something tickles at the back of his thoughts. Phichit’s explanation is right, but it’s not quite in the right order, and when Yuuri rearranges it in his mind he comes to the conclusion that saving Din won’t be nearly as easy as Phichit makes it sound. And there’s no way they’ll be able to do it themselves.

The goddesses have a plan for the odd green man they transported from Hyrule.

Yuuri and the others are going to have to work with him.

Whether they want to or not.

“Yuuri?”

He snaps back into focus with a jolt when Phichit’s hand passes in front of his face. “Huh— oh! Yes. I know what we have to do,” he says, laying it all out in his mind. “It’s going to take a lot of work, but in the end everything will be better than before. Viktor,” he holds out his arm and thinks, hot-cheeked, about how the movement puts his under-robes on display. “It will be dangerous for him. Take this.”

He drops the Zora ring into Viktor’s open palm.

* * *

They agree to keep the Sunken City as their headquarters, because Yakov Feltsman’s house has a portal between Labrynna and Holodrum just like the Maku Tree, but is forbiddingly set so high up on a steep hill that no other Surface Dwellers can ever reach his home except for in the dead of winter. Also, the seasons in the region mostly only flicker between spring and summer. Spring and summer Yuuri can stand.

The Hylian visits Yakov once or twice. Yuuri hides when he does, because the Hylian is tall and loud and the closer he is the less Yuuri wants to help him. It’s an odd phenomenon, and not what any of them needs right now.

“You try flying into him,” Viktor grouses the next time he comes to pick up a satchel full of seeds and rupees and intricate rings of power. Yuuri realized the fastest way to move the Hylian along in his quest was to give him help without his realizing the help for what it is. Viktor was all too quick to volunteer. He’s been crash landing into the Hylian and _accidentally_ dropping very important tools for the past two days. The Hylian, reportedly, hasn’t noticed anything strange about this yet. “It’s a thousand times worse.”

And maybe that’s true, or maybe Viktor is being dramatic. Yuuri can’t tell.

(Phichit says Viktor is being dramatic, but Phichit joined the Order of Seasons, so if he’s not being asked a question about when to best plant carrots he can keep his opinions to himself.)

(Yuuri agrees Viktor is being dramatic.)

(Farore – the goddess – help him, but he thinks it’s cute.)

* * *

When the Hylian finally makes it to the fortress where Din is being kept, the Order of Seasons betting pool gives 1 in 5 odds that he’ll die before saving her. Yuuri doesn’t participate in the pool – members of the Order of Secrets are never allowed to gamble – but he does grab Phichit and Viktor and calmly steer them outside to talk before they throw their rupees away.

“But there are _spikes_ in there Yuuri,” Phichit whines, turning in the firm grip Yuuri has on the back of his robes. “Spikes for him to die on! Did you know how hard it was to stop him from dying on the spikes in all the temples he went to? There were _so many_ , Yuuri! And this time you won’t let us go in and guide him.”

“He’s not going to die yet,” Yuuri chides. “Besides,” he asks, “Won’t you be happy having Din back?” He settles the three of them at the edge of the hill overlooking the Sunken City. Soft pangs plucked from invisible harp strings thrum at the edge of his awareness. The portal to Labrynna behind one of Yakov’s bookshelves calls to him. Yuuri ignores it. “This part will be over soon.”

“This part?” Viktor asks. Yuuri didn’t drag him. He looks as though he wishes Yuuri had.

“You’ll see,” Yuuri says in the most infuriating way he can. This must be how Farore feels every day, he thinks, reveling in the rolled eyes and frustrated grumbles he gets in return. It’s almost intoxicating, being vague. Almost like a large book on a warm day, or being the last one standing in the Dance Hall during the Lava Festival back home in Subrosia. It makes Yuuri want to jump and twirl.

He doesn’t.

He stands.

A spray of fallen petals whips by him on an errant breeze, followed by a handful of ember red leaves. He can taste the bite of snow at the back of his throat. It’s time.

“We need to get back to Din’s caravan,” he says, eyes glinting with a hint of green. “That’s where they’ll be.”

* * *

The celebration for Din’s return and the calming of the seasons lasts well into the night, which Yuuri approves of. He likes nighttime on the Surface more than the day, as long as it’s not too cold out. And as long as he stays near the great bonfire they built in the meadow in front of Din’s caravan there’s no danger of Yuuri being too cold. He dances around the fire in a whirling fury and waits for the Oracle Din to come to him.

She stalks up behind him silently, and if he hadn’t already known she was going to do it he would have screamed when she puts her hand on his shoulder and draws him aside. She thanks him for guiding the Hylian while she could not, and for removing General Onox, and bids him give her regards to her sister Farore.

Yuuri accepts her thanks. He promises to give his regards to her sister Nayru as well, and bows deeply to get out of explaining what he means. Din groans something about _secrets_ and Farore passing her insufferable ways along to her students. The golden bangles on her wrists clank against each other as she pointedly vents to the breeze about how a good punch and an arabesque are all anyone should need to convey information. The breeze does not giggle back, but it’s a near thing.

Din is a very beautiful woman, Yuuri reflects as she argues playfully with a sister that might just be there in spirit, with long hair and dark skin and a dancer’s frame. She’s a tough woman too. Yuuri could have been happy studying the seasons from her. She reminds him of Master Okukawa, if a bit taller and much more scantily-clad.

But Yuuri doesn’t regret his choice.

Realizing this surprises him. He doesn’t normally dwell on it, but he’s had to explain his choices for a long time. Why would a Subrosian want to go to the Surface? Why wouldn’t a Subrosian want to dance?

His answers in the past have been evasive.

He likes to read.

He likes understanding.

And those things are all true, but they’re not it.

Din leaves Yuuri by the fire in order to dance next to the Hylian on top of a wide, flat tree stump. As soon as she goes Yuuri begins steeling his heart for what’s about to happen next. A deep thumping beat inside his ears overwhelms the drums and flutes and singing and general celebration. He tells his heart to calm down. It doesn’t.

“Is anyone sitting here?” Viktor asks.

“You are,” Yuuri says, patting the ground next to him.

Viktor settles down beside Yuuri with an enviable level of grace. He sweeps the pointed black hat off his head grandly and sets it behind him. The firelight makes his silver hair seem to shimmer.

The knowledge of secrets - the temporary blessing Yuuri received from the golden goddess Farore the moment he stepped out into Holodrum, and learned how to harness on the bottom of a lakebed in the Sunken City - is already fading, drifting back to its proper owner. Yuuri can’t see exactly where he’s going to be in an hour anymore, and he doesn’t know which patch of woods Viktor needs to fly to so he can drop a hundred rupees that will allow the Hylian to buy something critically important tomorrow. What Yuuri _can_ see is himself and Viktor, sitting next to a different fire sometime in the future, warm again and happy again, wearing golden rings with no enchantment.

“Viktor,” Yuuri asks. “Why didn’t you join the Order of Seasons?”

Turning to look fully at Yuuri – at Yuuri’s dark Subrosian hood – Viktor smiles. “I can always dance if I want to,” he says. “Nikiforovs were born to be witches. When I’m flying I feel more alive than anywhere else. When I learn a new spell I want to jump and twirl, and usually I do! It makes Yakov furious. Sometimes he uses the portal just to get away from me. So,” he places a hand between them, leans on it, “it wasn’t a hard decision. I didn’t give up dancing. I have something that makes me want to dance.”

And that.

That’s something Yuuri understands.

A little while later he takes his own hand out from under his robes and places it next to Viktor’s. The secrets of the future are precious, and he may very well be called upon to know them again in the future. But for now, he wouldn’t mind learning them as they come, here with the people he cares for.

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I saw the prompts for Day 1 I thought Oracle of Seasons/Ages AU!! Initially Yuuri was supposed to be a mapmaker for Farore who had to go out and keep redoing the maps of Labrynna and Holodrum because Hero JJ kept screwing them up. That did not happen.
> 
> Title is a reference to two Subrosians who steal your stuff, and also to the fact that Subrosians like to dance. This fic did not want to be titled. Instead of titles, please talk to me about Subrosian Yuuri.
> 
> [NOW WITH ART!!](http://sobdasha.tumblr.com/post/163367138550/strange-brothers-dance-co-counterheist)


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